


Falling Never Hurts

by pyrosgf



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Kris Allen (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrosgf/pseuds/pyrosgf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Glam Reverse Big Bang.  Adam has a bad breakup and it leaves him hurt and confused.  Tommy doesn't help matters when he tells Adam he's really bisexual and has been with men in the past.  Though the grief is strong somewhere in Adam's heart he feels that impulse of emotions he felt the first time he'd met Tommy.  From there it's anyone's guess how things will pan out.  Adam is afraid to have his heart broken again, not to mention the repercussions of a relationship when you're the boss.</p>
<p>The art and mix can be found <a href="http://delugedpapercup.livejournal.com/10545.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Never Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

_Broken glasses littering the floor..._

 

 

It's a cold, windy night in London. Adam hasn't seen Kris in three months. Their schedules keep conflicting and he is nearly to the point of pulling his hair out. He misses having Kris around so he finds himself curled up in the hotel room with Tommy. They are both slightly buzzed, actual fucking wine glasses in hand, hiding away from the frigid cold outside with a marathon of True Blood.

Alcohol makes Adam warm and loose and his gaze slips from the TV to Tommy during yet another scene of Bill fucking Sookie's brains out. Tommy's lips are red and parted, cheeks pinked almost the same color of his hair, and it's through the hazy folds of wine that he can admit how truly beautiful Tommy is. He's always thought so, but Tommy has never showed any signs of reciprocation so when Kris left Katy, well, everything else became moot.

Adam sighs and Tommy glances at him, a brow quirked in question.

“Nothing, just missing him.”

Tommy gives a sympathetic nod and snuggles into his side. “At least we'll be home soon.”

“Yeah, even then you know my house will be empty. He's doing east coast for a month after we get home.” Adam sounds like a petulant child who isn't going to get his dessert, but it hurts knowing he's essentially going back to an empty house.

“Fly out to see him, dude. It's not like you're lacking in funds,” Tommy mutters. His voice is muffled by the fact that his face is practically pressed into the soft fabric of Adam's shirt.

“Can't, more promo shit in LA... least you get some time off. And Tommy... seriously what are you doing? Are you _sniffing_ me?”

Tommy finally pulls away and looks up at Adam through his bangs. “You always smell good, s'not my fault.”

Adam shakes his head and laughs softly. “I guess I asked for it then,” Adam agrees. He scoots further down in the bed and pulls Tommy closer.

Adam doesn't remember falling asleep but he's startled awake by his phone alerting him of a new text. Tommy shifts from where he'd passed out on Adam's chest and gazes up at Adam with curious eyes. It's late in London and the only person Adam knows that would forget the time change is Kris. “Kris,” Adam whispers. He ruffles Tommy's hair before reaching for his phone. He bumps his half-full wine glass while fumbling to reach his phone and he holds his breath as it totters. Just when he thinks it's going to settle, it tips off the side table almost as if it was pushed. It hits the carpet and, unsurprisingly, the thin glass shatters. The pieces catch the light from the lamp on the bedside table. The red of the wine is bright at first and then, as it seeps into the fibers, turns the color of drying blood. Adam watches, frozen. The picture of the broken glass and stain causes a shiver down his spine for a reason unbeknownst to him. Foreboding maybe? He shakes it off and finally grabs his cell. He settles back into the sheets and sighs.

“Don't worry about it, I'm sure it happens all the time. Housekeeping, I'm sure, prefers your version of being a rockstar to having to clean up an entire room that's been trashed.”

“Yeah,” Adam replies and messes with his iPhone until the text is open. His stomach plummets much like the glass moments before. He slings the phone against the wall, every part of him shutting down, hardening to protect himself from the pain he's sure he should be feeling. He's okay, he's... and as the breath rushes in and out of his lungs, darkness creeps around the edge of his vision.

“Adam... Adam... talk to me...” He hears Tommy, but can't reply, the words won't come. Tommy's scent surrounds him, warm arms wrap around his body, and he suddenly realizes how cold he feels. Nothing more is said. Tommy stays by Adam's side and pets his hair. Adam's breathing returns to normal, then he drifts into an uneasy sleep.

 

_There was someone that I knew before, a heart from the past, that I cannot forget. I let him take all my gold, and hurt me so bad..._  


It's been three months since Kris sent the text saying nothing more than “it's over.” Adam still feels hollow. Adam never called him for an explanation and within a week of the text Adam sees Kris' face plastered on People with the blaring headline 'Idol Winner Reunites with Wife.' He may have impulsively bought a copy and burnt it to a crisp in his fireplace when he got home. Being back in LA for a while definitely has its advantages.

One of those advantages is Tommy. Tommy and his goofy smile and endearing laugh. Tommy who doesn't ask questions or give him pitying looks when he's having a bad day. But even Tommy threw him for a loop one night about two weeks ago. A night just like any other since he's been back. Tommy pretty much came home with him after the tour and never left. They didn't really address it, it's just understood that Tommy needs a place since his roommate is getting married and Adam can't stand the idea of dealing with a breakup in a huge, quiet house.

Two weeks ago things changed. A night that started just like any other became a clusterfuck of emotions Adam doesn't know how to handle. Tommy, his Tommy, the one person in his life he thought he knew, came out. _Bisexual._ He's known Tommy for the better part of five years and at no point during that time did Tommy think it a good idea to mention it. When Adam asks why, Tommy mutters something about wanting to get the job for his talent, not his looks.

Adam sighs to himself and lets the previous two weeks roll through his mind like a movie. The awkwardness that's suddenly present after Tommy admits to having had just as many boyfriends as girlfriends through the years. The painful details Tommy gives about his first relationship with a guy. _Christian,_ the name echoes in his mind. Adam has never been so jealous of a Christian in his entire life. In the days that followed the admission, feelings sparked. The warm, tingling butterflies he'd felt the first time they'd met returned. Then nothing changed. No, that's not accurate. Things became awkward, because that's when Adam started over-thinking everything. What used to be casual touches leave Adam feeling heat in places that shouldn't be aware of the simple action of Tommy's hand brushing his when he hands Tommy the salt during dinner.

Now, though, now Adam is back at square one. He's hollow, confused and conflicted, because even his best friend has been lying to him. Five years and not once has Tommy reacted to any of Adam's flirting... well, any more than he does during their stage antics. If you can believe it, Adam feels more fucked up now. Not only over his failing relationship with Kris but also over whatever the hell is going on with Tommy.

The constant love and support he had from Tommy. Having Tommy living with him. They'd gotten closer than they'd ever been and now that feels broken, too.

 

_And it's easier to sing the things I wanna say to you..._  


Another week goes by and Adam's no closer to resolving the situation with Tommy. It occurs to him that he should probably let himself grieve the loss of Kris before trying to figure anything else out. That, of course, leads Adam here: his studio, in the middle of the night, staring at a notebook with lyrics scribbled aimlessly across it. He ignores the tear stains that mar the page.

During the night, the wall he had thrown up to protect himself from the pain of losing Kris crumbles. His heart is pummeled by pieces of the rubble and the physical hurt is almost greater than the emotional. He curls into himself, fingertips digging into the paper, pen scratching hateful words just as fast as his brain can conjure them. When he finally looks at the clock, it's six in the morning. The words are all there and for the next eight hours he throws himself into recording vocals until his throat burns from overuse. This track isn't for an album. It's going to be released just for Youtube, just for the fans who've shared the same heartbreak in their own lives. No backing track, just his voice, his pain, and his need to move on laid out there for the world to hear. When the track is finished, to his perfectionist standards, he uploads it to Youtube with no description and tweets it to his fans, without consulting his label. He's pretty sure he'll live to regret that last part. As the despair lightens into something easier to manage, he's also pretty sure the punishment will be worth the crime. That thought in mind, he drags himself, bleary-eyed and foggy-minded, to bed to sleep, for eternity or at least the next eight hours.

 

_It's easy to deceive but it's hard when the trust that's broken is mine._  


A week passes quickly and His Song gets Adam an outpouring of support from fans and an ass-chewing from his record label. All in all, he thinks it was a pretty fair trade. It's also mildly amusing to see fans speculating on whom His Song is actually referring to. A surprising number of Glamberts descend on Tommy's twitter with blame over Adam's broken heart. Again Adam uses twitter to make a PSA, that His Song is not about Tommy at all. It's all he can do to resist pointing the finger at Kris, but even though he's still hurt a lot of the resentment went with the song.

“Ya know that's not going to stop them from blaming me. Thanks though.” Tommy ambles into his bedroom and flops down onto the bed like he owns it.

“Can't blame me for trying.” Adam grins and ruffles Tommy's hair.

Things aren't quite back to normal but it's closer now. Adam isn't always paranoid he's about to say something inappropriate, except how at the moment he apparently should be.

Before Adam can stop himself, the words are out there, hovering between them. Tommy's face falls, then his expression shapes into something carefully blank.

“I thought... I thought we'd already been through this.” Tommy's voice is low and Adam can hear the uncertainty there.

“I just... I'm fucking confused, okay. I mean, as if things in my life weren't fucked up enough... who gets broken up with via text message? Then you decide to drop a bomb on me.” Adam doesn't mean for his voice to climb in volume but hysteria suddenly seems like the right emotion to go with. He needs to know.

“I didn't know you back then. I didn't know if you'd hire me just because there was a chance you could get with me. I know you're not like that, but by the time I figured it out you had already preached my straightness to everyone who would listen because of the AMAs,” Tommy whispers. He curls his legs closer to his own body.

“Okay, that's fair... but you could have told _me._ I would've kept it between us if you'd wanted.”

“To be honest,” Tommy grumbles and wiggles his way up the bed, closer to Adam's side. “I figured you knew. I mean, there were just as many guys I wandered off with some of those drunken nights on tour as women.”

Adam makes a sound somewhere close to a squawk before he can stop himself. “You... since you've been with me... uhh, I mean, since you've been in my band?”

Tommy just nods and reaches for Adam's hand, eyes locked on Adam's. Adam's mind whirls with this new information and, though words seem gone, Tommy's gaze never falters. “You know how in the beginning you told the press that I was the hot straight guy? I know I'm physically your type... but you're all sunshine when things are going well and I'm not like that. I still think you're beautiful though. I think I could... no, I don't think. I do love you and a part of me always has. I'm just not sure putting our friendship on the line is worth whatever will come of it, Adam. I just... I want you to know I'm sorry. I thought you knew and lying to you in the beginning was just to ensure I was getting the job by my own talent and not my looks ya know?”

“It's okay Tommy. It's okay. I...” Adam trails off. The conflicting emotions are running rampant. Confusion still wars inside him, alongside the need to admit that he still has a soft spot for Tommy. He isn't ready to say it yet. “I'm glad you're here,” Adam says instead.

“Me too,” Tommy utters. Then he releases Adam's fingers, in favor of cupping the back of Adam's neck. He uses his grip to pull Adam in and pecks him on the lips. Nothing more than a gentle press for a few seconds and then Tommy lets Adam go and is up and out of the room before Adam can say a word. Adam touches his mouth. The phantom feelings of the kiss still linger long after Tommy leaves. Adam knows he's well and truly fucked. His mourning heart has suddenly received a spark of something warm and sweet. He's not sure how to handle that.

 

_You can’t be sad when something you have never had suddenly feels gone..._  


It's been nearly four months since the text that took Kris away from him. Four months and now he cuddles up on the couch with Tommy in front of the TV. When he'd returned from the tour, Kris' things were gone. Not that it was a surprise. Adam just didn't realize until now that he'd never taken down the pictures. He and Kris had somehow kept things under wraps with fans and the press, but there was no lack of proof of the year they'd spent together. No lack of proof for the year they'd spent together. No lack of pictures, mementos, things that Adam has come to think of as just parts of his life. Looking at their faces in those photos, though, a thought occurs to him.

“He was never truly mine, everything about us was an illusion. I just wanted it so badly that I deluded myself into believing he was really ready to give up his life with his _wife._ I wasted a year on something I dreamed up, that I wanted so badly to be real.” Adam's voice grates like he's swallowed gravel.

Tommy doesn't say a word, just gets up and moves around the room gathering pictures containing Kris' face as he goes. When he's finished, the room doesn't look bare, not really. Adam's manic obsession with taking pictures has left the walls with plenty. Frames line his mantle with photos of his family and his childhood. His windowsill is cluttered with images from shows, and there's even a couple of Adam with Brad tucked on the end table beside his favorite reading chair. There's a whole life in photographs here and one little year suddenly seems a little less important than it had just moments ago.

“Thanks man.” Adam smiles at Tommy and Tommy just smirks and heads over to the fireplace with all the frames.

“Don't give me that look, you're loaded, you can buy more frames. I also know you and you have digital copies of all these saved everywhere you can think to put them as backups. This is some symbolic shit, so light it up, dude. Light it up and say goodbye.”

“Yeah, okay... umm can we do it tonight after it cools off a little? There's one more thing I want to add to this, but I don't have it yet.”

“Sounds like a plan. We'll roast marshmallows over the ashes or something. And I don't wanna hear a word about calories, mister!” Tommy bounces over and wraps Adam up in a fierce hug.

 

_So I write this letter that I'll never send just so I remember the beauty of the end..._  


Adam's in his room, settled into the bed they shared, with a pen and a notebook. The words flow onto the paper much faster and easier than when he had written His Song. He opens the door to everything he ever wanted to say to Kris that he'd never said. He never realized how much he had held back until he finishes. Seven pages front and back. Seven pages spanning the year they were actually together. These seven pages don't touch the time during Idol or the occasional rendezvous they had afterward. If he included all the time they'd spent together he's pretty sure a books worth wouldn't be sufficient. All that aside, he folds the pages neatly, and stuffs them into an envelope and seals it. In his neatest, swirling handwriting, he jots down Kris' name and, from memory, the last address he knows Kris and Katy shared. Less neatly, he scribbles his own name and the return address and, after some digging through his desk, he finds an old thirty-two cent stamp. Yeah, he doesn't send mail very often and he doesn't ever get rid of stamps, even when postage goes up. This, in Tommy's words, is some symbolic shit, so Adam figures a stamp, no matter the worth, suits the purpose.

Satisfied that he has said what he wanted to day, he drops the pen on his desk and heads downstairs with the envelope. Adam drops the envelope into the fireplace with the frames and heads to the kitchen to start dinner. Somehow take out doesn't seem appropriate if he's going to be saying goodbye. He wants something memorable. He doesn't want to forget this day. It's going to be a fresh start.

 

_For all I ever wanted was for you to want me too..._  


The sound of the fire crackling is distant in Adam's ears as he watches a year of his life turn to ashes. The warm light flickers, giving the room a soft glow. Tommy's right by his side, their hands clasped together and Adam sighs. Kris is his past... but he's not sure what Tommy is. As the flames dance in front of his eyes, he wonders about what his life would've been like if he had known Tommy was bisexual. He would be a liar if he said he wasn't disappointed when he didn't get more of a reaction from Tommy after the AMAs. His gut has always told him Tommy was not as straight as he proclaimed, but even with Adam's subtle attempts to test him on stage nothing had ever bled over into their lives offstage other than friendship.

Tommy squeezes Adam's hand, lets go, and gets up. Noticing that Tommy's headed for the kitchen, Adam is struck again by the weird feeling of fluttering in his stomach. He can't have Tommy, it would never work, he can't risk this. He's the boss, he's gotta be responsible and all that shit, but there's still a voice in the back of his mind that whispers 'but do I really have to?'

Fingertips on his shoulder startle him, but when he glances up he can't help but laugh. Tommy's standing there with two roasting sticks, a bag of marshmallows, and a cheesy grin on his face.

“You thought I was joking. I went out and picked them up while you were busy upstairs. Now come on, we're going to toast to your freedom via sticky, roasted yummyness.”

“And I'll be the one running three miles just to burn off all that tasty goodness.”

“It's worth it...” Tommy waves the bag in front of Adam's nose until he sighs and snatches it.

“I'm not sure it's worth it, but fuck it,” Adam replies as he tears open the bag.

“That's the spirit! Wow, did I actually just say that?” Tommy quirks an eyebrow at Adam and Adam just dissolves into giggles.

“Yeah, that was a little fabulous, baby,” Adam laughs.

Adam pulls out a couple of the soft treats and hands them to Tommy who puts two onto one stick and holds out his hand for more. Adam starts to grab one but Tommy gives him a bitch face and shakes his head. Adam groans dramatically, grabs two more and plops them in Tommy's palm.

“You love me,” is Tommy's answer.

Before Adam can curb his stupid mouth, words are falling out again which he didn't want to say. “You know when I first met you... those first couple of months I preened like a peacock for you. I wanted you to notice me. I wanted... it sounds silly, but I wanted you. Even with the knowledge you were _straight_ I couldn't help how my body reacted. I... Wow, why am I telling you this now?”

Tommy shrugs and hands Adam his stick and they both settle with their legs crossed, their bodies turned inward slightly toward each other. “Sounds like there's more you're not saying?”

“Yeah, I think I may have lied to myself all those years ago. I don't think that first kiss was as much an impulse decision as I wanted it to be. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was going to do it. I wanted to get a reaction out of you. I thought it might change things between us, and when you didn't fly off the handle after the show it gave me an inkling of hope that maybe I could have you. Fuck, yeah, how crazy! It was probably around the end of Glam Nation when I finally relegated you to a dream in my spank bank,” Adam mutters the last bit and drops his stick closer to the flame. The marshmallows brown quickly and he pulls them from the fire and near his mouth to blow on them. He tries to ignore Tommy's silence, it doesn't mean anything, he's just absorbing everything.

Finally, after about five minutes, Tommy shifts and sets his marshmallows on fire. He pulls them out and blows on them until the flame goes out and leaves him with charred sugar. Adam stuffs one of his into his mouth to keep from asking Tommy what he's thinking. The sweetness overwhelms him and when he swallows his stomach turns. He swallows again, hard, and hopes that his dinner doesn't decide to make a reappearance. Adam relaxes a little when Tommy squeezes his knee.

“Some days I wish I hadn't lied,” Tommy whispers. That's all he says.

 

_I can only hope to kill you with a song..._  


To say it's an argument might be an understatement, but Adam stands his ground. They want him to perform at the AMAs again and it's going to be on his terms. Adam knows Kris will be there and he wants Kris to hear it. Adam wants to know for a fact Kris has heard His Song. He's afraid he might break on stage, but the risk is worth it and finally, after several pissy phone calls from his management, they iron out the details. It will be just Adam and a microphone. He's dragging Tommy along for emotional support, and he's sure that's just going to fire up more rumors, but Adam can't do this without Tommy by his side.

Seven months since the night in London and the heartache has melted into a softer bruise, but when he steps out of the limo with Tommy by his side, he's not sure what he was thinking. Camera flashes blind him and he blinks against the light, tries to calm the sudden panic that rolls through him. Tommy's there, right behind him, and a gentle squeeze of his hip grounds him. He finally manages to plaster a smile on his face and begins making his way through the flashing lights. The red carpet is no less intimidating because the photogs want pictures of him without Tommy. The loss of Tommy's warmth at his back is startling, and he stumbles before finally getting hold of his senses again. Step, smile, pose, step, smile, pose. He can do this, he's done it a million times. He's fine until he hears a fan screeching across the barricade. It isn't his name she's screaming. Adam's stomach turns and he thinks for a moment he's going to throw up. Tommy's there at his side again like a flash, gripping his hand tightly.

“Come on, Adam. Forget the carpet, let's go.” Tommy sounds worried.

When Adam attempts to turn his head to look down the red carpet where he knows Kris is, Tommy catches his chin and shakes his head.

“What?”

“Not here Adam, please, let's go inside,” Tommy pleads.

Adam trusts Tommy's instincts and lets himself be pulled inside without turning back. Tommy doesn't stop tugging them until they're in the relative privacy of an empty bathroom. When Tommy flips the lock and turns to look at Adam, he sees Tommy's fear.

“Tell me,” Adam demands.

Tommy wrings his hands nervously. “It's... I didn't think you would wanna find out like that. In front of people. This will give you time to react away from the public eye.”

“Tell me,” Adam repeats.

Tommy surges forward and pulls Adam into a tight hug. It isn't until Tommy's head is burrowing into his neck that Tommy whispers, “Katy's pregnant.”

Adam's knees give out and he's pushed into the wall, held up between it and the warm press of Tommy's body. “... How pregnant?” Adam asks, unsure he really wants to know.

“Like she might have it tonight?”

“Sonofabitch!” Adam regains his legs and shoves out of Tommy's hold, darting into one of the stalls. He has hit his knees before he thinks of his outfit, but it's just in time for him to gag over the toilet bowl. Again Tommy's right behind him, brushing his fingers gently at the base of Adam's neck. When he's calmed a fraction he realizes tears are running down his face. “She... she was already pregnant when he broke up with me, she had to be. He... he was cheating on me. And how... how did they keep it a secret that he'd knocked her up?”

“I don't know. I haven't seen anything in the rags about it. Maybe they went back to Arkansas to lay low for a while?”

“But why tonight? Why?”

“I don't know that either.”

Adam groans and wipes at his eyes. He's glad he used waterproof eyeliner. He knew he was probably going to end up in tears tonight, he just didn't expect it to be this soon. “I was right, he was never mine,” Adam sighs and stands up, Tommy's hand a gentle support on his back.

“Get up, let's see if we can salvage your makeup, then we'll get you some water. You've gotta sing tonight,” Tommy mutters and grabs Adam's hand. Adam's grateful that Tommy doesn't let go until Adam has to go backstage to get ready to perform. He doesn't care if there are a hundred pictures of them holding hands tonight, they still won't be as incriminating as Kris' situation with Katy. Adam wonders if anyone will do the math and realize, but of course they wouldn't would they? No one ever knew he and Kris were together, so Kris still comes out smelling like roses. Fucking figures!

Adam shakes it off and focuses on his breathing. When he's centered, he grabs another bottle of water and drinks half before recapping it. His throat is abused from the gagging, but at least he didn't vomit. That probably would've wrecked any attempt he made of making His Song what he really intended it to be. Now if only Adam could kill him with His Song.

“And to close the show tonight, please welcome, Adam Lambert,” the host crows.

Adam adjusts his suit one more time and glances in the mirror that's placed just offstage. His eyes are still red and a little puffy, but otherwise he's no worse for the wear. As an afterthought, he grabs a hand full of tissues from the box by the mirror, stuffs them in his pocket, then walks out on stage with his head held high. He settles on the stool, grabs the mic from the stand, and moves the stand behind him. A stage hand runs up and takes it away. Adam shakes his head. It's a live show, the stand would've been just fine where he placed it. Not important, he reminds himself. He looks out toward the crowd into a sea of darkness and when he opens his mouth the lights dim and a soft blue spotlight focuses on him. “Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you remember my first performance on this show, but I can assure you this one will be nothing like that. This song goes out to him. He knows who he is.”

Adam sits up a little straighter, opens his mouth, and lets the words that are etched into his mind roll out and over the audience. It's just him, his voice, his words, and emotions playing out on stage. No distractions of a band or yelling in the audience. Everything is still until the final note echoes off into the venue. He retrieves a tissue from his pocket and wipes at his eyes, thanks the audience, and it isn't until then that a wall of sound flies back at him. The applause follow him offstage. He's still wiping at tear tracks, not paying one bit of attention, when he runs into someone. Adam can't fucking believe it. He flinches and attempts to walk around Kris, but Kris is there with a grip on his arm.

Adam finally looks into Kris' eyes and sees that he's been crying too. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Kris whispers. “... Katy and I got together one night while you were away, I was drunk... and yeah, well, I guess I don't really have to elaborate. It was a mistake. I should have told you then, but I didn't want to lose you. The night... the night you got the text was the night Katy told me she was pregnant.” Kris releases Adam's arm and rubs at the back of his neck. “I had to do what was right. Besides, it looks like you've gotten back on your feet.” Kris tilts his head and Adam looks in the direction of where Tommy's approaching.

“It's not what,” Adam starts, then he clamps his mouth shut. Maybe it is. When Tommy gets to him he wraps Adam in a hug and mumbles, “It's time to get wasted,” into Adam's jacket. Kris has already disappeared and Adam searches the crowd until he sees a flash of blond hair. His heart wrenches slightly when he catches sight of Katy's belly. “I like the way you think, Tommy Joe. Drunk won't fix it, but I need something.”

“Won't fix it, but we can go out and have a good time. It's always a good time with me, right?”

“It is,” Adam agrees and lets Tommy lead him out through the back and into a limo.

 

_Take me home watch me fall down to earth. Take me back for this is start of something beautiful. You are the start of something new..._  


They head out to the bar and Tommy texts the band, who join them shortly after they get settled. They proceed to down shots, of any and every flavor you can imagine, and it's long about his seventh shot that Adam forgets why he hasn't kissed Tommy. The warmth seeping through his veins gives him courage he wouldn't have otherwise and he clumsily pins Tommy against the stall of the bathroom Tommy has so helpfully lead him into. His legs aren't very steady but his body is totally on board with the fact that he's pressed firmly into Tommy. Tommy's breathing is loud in Adam's ear and Adam nips at the piercings lining Tommy's lobe.

The next thing he knows, Tommy squeaks pitifully and the fog finally clears from Adam's mind enough that he backs away. Adam knows Tommy's keeping his face carefully blank when he says, “Adam, come on, you said you had to piss.”

“I uhh, Tommy, I...” Adam stutters.

“You're drunk,” Tommy replies softly. “Just get on with it so we can head back to the booth, the band's probably wondering if I flushed you.”

Adam knows it's a joke, but he can't find it in himself to laugh. He turns, braces himself on the wall when the world swims for a minute. When it settles, he manages to finally get the coordination to do what he came in here for. Only, he's not sure if this is what he had really wanted when he had suggested Tommy help him to the bathroom. When he's finished and has tucked himself away, he pushes the stall door open and stumbles out to the sink, head down, eyes lingering on the floor. Methodically, he washes his hands. He startles when he looks up into the mirror to see Tommy.

“Come on, Adam.” Tommy grabs at his arm like he's going to lead him back out into the bar. Before Tommy manages that, though, the door swings open and the thumping music fills the small space as several men flood inside and head toward the urinals. When the door closes again, it's Adam who's grabbing Tommy. He leads them, in a drunken path, back to the stall they had evacuated. It may be a shitty bathroom in a bar, but this is a conversation that needs to happen now.

“Adam,” Tommy protests.

“No, we're talking about this now.” Adam lurches into the stall and barely has time to turn before he flops down onto the toilet seat. They wait silently until they're alone again. Adam doesn't care if people come in now that they're concealed, but he didn't want the men who'd watched them go into the stall to hear what he's about to say. Too high a chance that he'd be recognized and the headline, _Adam Lambert has Heart to Heart in Bathroom Stall,_ would be all over TMZ. No thanks.

“Okay, they're gone, what Adam? Listen, I don't want you to say anything you're going to regret in the morning. Let's just go home before you pass out.”

“No,” Adam grates louder than he'd intended. “Tommy, fuck! You know I told you I was interested in you when you joined my band, but these past few months... I don't know what I would've done without you. I don't think those feelings ever truly went away, they just transformed into what was needed at the time. And you've told me yourself that you had feelings for me, you're just scared that we're too different, and well, maybe we are, but fuck, we'll never know unless we try. I think it's worth it,” Adam babbles.

“I... you think so?”

“I do,” Adam whispers and gropes for Tommy's hand to pull him down into his lap. “Come 'ere.” Tommy complies and they kiss for several moments before Adam feels the beginnings of something he'd rather not share with Tommy. “Move,” Adam demands, and when Tommy scuttles from his lap Adam barely manages to drop to his knees in front of the toilet before his body is ridding itself of the alcohol. In the back of his mind, he can't help but think that it figures. He finally owns up to his feelings and gets to kiss his best friend and of course that's when mixing alcohol comes back to bite him in the ass.

When he's finally down to dry heaves he makes a pitiful noise and Tommy leaves him and comes back with a cold paper towel.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. You about done? I wanna take you home.”

It's long about that time that he hears the bathroom being flooded with music again. When the sound ebbs he hears his name. He whimpers and Tommy peeks out of the stall to let Brian know Adam's not feeling so hot and they're headed home.

“Feel better, Boss,” Brian calls and the music bursts through the silence once again.

“Alright, home, yes... let's go.”

Tommy helps him up and back over to the sink. Things aren't swimmy anymore but now his mouth tastes like ass. As he washes his mouth out with cool water, he thinks this whole night was worth it.

 

_Beauty comes in slow release. I awaken to you piece by piece. I have no need for innocence or grief..._  


When his brain comes online again, Adam remembers Tommy helping him into the house, and feeding him water and pills, but after that things go a little fuzzy. He's still drifting in that place just between sleep and waking. His toes twitch and he jerks, unable to control the motion just yet. His body is still too heavy, his limbs like boulders that won't follow his mind. His mind, though, is fully online. He realizes last night could have ended badly, but it didn't. Well, actually he could have done without coming so close to vomiting in Tommy's mouth, but that didn't happen either, so he guesses he should consider it a win. Even after all that, Tommy was willing to take care of him. His body jolts again and finally he gets hold of himself. The weight lifts and he stretches and rolls over in an attempt to get more comfortable. Pain laces through him when he hits the floor. He opens his eyes, now knowing full and well he apparently wasn't in his own bed. After blinking away the blurriness caused by light flooding his sensitive eyes, he realizes he's in his guestroom. The one Tommy took over when he moved in. The sound of sheets rustling catches his attention and he gazes up to find Tommy looking down at him, barely keeping a straight face.

Adam groans, but Tommy pets his hair. Adam knows for sure that if it wasn't still sticky with product Tommy's fingers would be massaging his scalp the way Tommy knows Adam loves.

“I'm okay, you can laugh. I know you want to.”

Tommy giggles. “I didn't expect you to try and run away from me. There are better ways of leaving than rolling off the bed. You make noise when you hit the floor.”

“Smartass,” Adam snarks. “Get up and help me up,” he pouts.

“Such a diva,” Tommy grumbles, but the smirk on his face tells Adam that he doesn't really mind.

Tommy stands in front of him and offers him his hands. Once they lace their fingers together Tommy gives a swift tug and Adam gets to his feet and pulls Tommy into his arms. Tommy goes willingly and Adam nuzzles and kisses Tommy's neck. “It's still early,” Adam breathes into Tommy's skin.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees.

Adam grinds into Tommy's hip. “I say we waste some more time in your bed.”

“I think you might be onto something,” Tommy replies. He shifts in Adam's arms and shoves at his chest until Adam tumbles back onto the bed.

Adam starts to say something, but it no longer seems important when Tommy slings Adam's legs up onto the bed and makes him slide over. The look in Tommy's eyes is everything he wished for all those years ago and when Tommy straddles Adam's hips he can't help but pull Tommy down into a bruising kiss. Their tongues war and Adam gets his hands down Tommy's underwear to cup and squeeze Tommy's ass. Tommy's writhing against Adam's erection and its all Adam can do not to flip them and fuck Tommy into the mattress, but first he wants to take the edge off. If the first thing they do is fuck, Adam knows he wouldn't last five minutes. No, this, Tommy's body pressed so close, is delicious. Adam thinks he might have an even better idea, though. When they break the kiss to breathe he decides it has to happen.

“Underwear off,” Adam demands.

“Mmm, yeah, okay.” Tommy flops onto his back and wiggles out of his boxer briefs while Adam quickly slides out of his own. “What's the plan, boss?” Tommy grins like a cat that just nommed a canary.

“Boss, huh, yeah I think I like that,” Adam growls. “Now get your ass over here like you were, except sit back just a little further. I need to get my hand on your dick and I wanna feel mine pressed right up against yours with nothing between us.”

Adam licks his lips while Tommy gets himself situated. Tommy's cock is beautiful, thick and curves a little to the left, and the head is only slightly exposed, the rest hidden by Tommy's foreskin. Tommy's leaking and Adam shivers, the vision of licking up every drop hits him hard. He knows once he gets a taste he'll never want to do anything else, so orgasms first, blowing Tommy second, fucking Tommy into the mattress to round out the activities. Adam groans and his dick twitches. He can't fucking believe he's this turned on. He's going to blame it on the fact that all he can smell is Tommy. Tommy's scent is in the sheets, all around him. Tommy's whimper brings Adam from his whirling thoughts and he grips Tommy and gives him a couple of strokes. He uses his thumb over the head to spread Tommy's precome and once Tommy's slick he presses their dicks together. Tommy makes a pained little noise and grips at Adam's hip, his nails digging in.

“Yeah, feels good doesn't it?” Adam asks, wanting nothing more than to hear Tommy's voice broken and needy with arousal.

“Fuck, Adam, you drive me fucking crazy. Do you even know how many times I've had to walk offstage with a boner through the years? Do you have any fucking idea how many venue showers I've had to jerk off in after shows? Fucking cocktease, and now you're gonna make me come,” Tommy babbles between moans.

Adam trembles and stills his hand on their cocks or he's going to go off. He never knew. “... Did you really?”

“Don't stop,” Tommy whines, “Yeah, hell sometimes even during my breaks in the set I was so hard I had to go find a bathroom.”

Adam strokes them, slowly, Tommy's hips stuttering, and before Adam can reply Tommy leans down and sucks on Adam bottom lip. Tommy's position cramps Adam's ability to move, so for several minutes Adam squeezes them rhythmically while Tommy devours his mouth. Adam loves it, the feel of Tommy's teeth nibbling, Tommy's tongue snaking out to lick into Adam's mouth. It's heated and they share the same air until Adam feels lightheaded with all the feelings coursing through him. When Tommy pulls away, Adam goes back to long, slow caresses, until Tommy is cursing and begging for Adam to make him come. Adam speeds up, the motion a blur between them, until Adam knows he's doomed. His entire body is warm and tingling and just as he gasps out that he's going to come, Tommy screams. Tommy's come becomes extra lube since Adam is just a few seconds behind.

“Fuck, yessss,” Adam hisses, his cock spilling over his hand, their dicks, and his own stomach.

When the aftershocks settle to little zings of pleasure, he finally takes in the scene. Tommy's eyelids are fluttering, he's got bed head, and his lips are puffy and parted as he catches his breath.

“Beautiful,” Adam remarks and pulls Tommy down into his arms. He doesn't care about the mess. He just needs Tommy close.

“Adam?”

“Baby?” Adam breathes softly.

“Why the hell did we wait so long?”

“Things happen when the time is right?”

“Mmm maybe so,” Tommy slurs sleepily.

Adam rubs Tommy's back, content to be used as a body pillow until they wake up again for round two.

“Love you,” Adam whispers, after Tommy's breathing is that of sleep. He too drifts away into dreams, though this time he's sure reality is sweeter.


End file.
